


Untitled

by xipypuck



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, Movies AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 01:13:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7824403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xipypuck/pseuds/xipypuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan's been creeping over 'the' guy at the movies for a while now and, really, this is not what he should be doing the whole summer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untitled

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks Ragno for the beta!

“Thank you, enjoy the movie! Next!”

Ryan is kind of used to that cheerful tone already and, honestly, it would be a little annoying and mostly ridiculous, given that Ryan is the kind of guy who appreciates the quiet and silence of a library. But the voice belongs to a boy, _the_ boy. Ryan is starting to call him like that because he believes in the importance of the words and, really, being an ‘a’ is clearly not the same that being a ‘the’. So he’s totally a ‘the’. And Ryan is been creeping around him for a while now. That’s what his father says, anyway, and he’s enjoying this situation too much for Ryan’s liking, actually. He likes movies; he’s a cinephile, come on. So this guy, _the_ guy, is totally not the reason why he’s spending the low salary he gets working three days per week at the book store in going to the movies every week. Twice. Sometimes even three days if his boss gives him a bonus.

The row moves a little and a girl right behind him tells him he can go to the other cash register, where a pretty brunette with sharp eyes and pale skin is calling for another client. Ryan has a moment of panic— dealing with people is not his strong point, but in the end he tells her to go first, he can wait a little more. He can wait until the guy is free so he can attend him. The girl tells him he’s very kind and thanks him a couple of times but, really, is not necessary, is not like Ryan is doing her a favor or anything. He’s gonna have to wait a little longer because the guy is attending a group of, like, fifty people, but it’s totally worth it.

Anyway, this is happening for almost three weeks now, because he gets bored easily and he already re-read everything he has at home, and at the book store too, and his father likes to play poker with his friends but Ryan is not really a fan. So he gets bored, and since it’s summer and he isn’t doing anything but working his shifts so he can help his father pay for college next year, he decided it was a good idea to go to the movies. He knows. It’s kind of counter-productive working to pay for college and the spending everything on the movies but this wasn’t what he planned, okay? This was just a one time thing. An ‘I’m bored let’s do something different’ kind of thing. And then he happened.

Ryan wasn’t really expecting to spend his salary on the movies but it’s not like he can _help_ it. So maybe the guy really is the reason why he’s coming to the movies every week. Ryan is not a sociable guy, he didn’t even have that many friends in highschool, just Spencer and Z, and they’re both away for the holidays. He can almost hear what they would say if they saw him right now. ‘Fucking grow a pair and ask him out, man’ Spencer would say, laughing at him. Z would probably just pity him and ask him if he wants her to ask for his number. Ryan doesn’t know what’s worse. He doesn’t even know if the guy is gay and it would be so embarrassing asking him and-

“Thank you, enjoy the movie! Next!”

Ryan’s thoughts are interrupted just as he walks closer to the counter, and he can already feel the knots in his guts and his palms sweating. Did he say already he’s not good with people? Yeah. And he’s a ‘the’. Come on. The guy is smiling wide, with big beaming brown eyes and full lips and, really, Ryan is so fucked this is not funny anymore. Why the fuck does he like movies anyway?

“Um. Hi. I’ll take a s-small popcorn carton, um, small soda and, and a bag of candy, p-please,” Ryan says, and he can feel his cheeks getting warmer as the guy looks at him for a few seconds longer than usually. He’s probably wondering what’s wrong in his brain. He moves fast, though, so much Ryan thinks maybe he imagined it, like, wishful thinking, and he gets everything ready so quickly Ryan almost wishes he had asked for more things so he could stay a little longer.

“There you go. Ten seventy five, please,” the guy says, and Ryan hurries to pay even though he doesn’t want to go yet. But he doesn’t want to make him wait either. He’s ready to apologize to the next person when he sees he’s the last one in the row. Ryan handles the money to the guy and says thank you again with a small voice and hiding behind the locks of hair falling over his face. “Thank you, enjoy the movie!”

Ryan watches him go back to work behind the counter just for a few seconds before grabbing his things and walking away from there and towards the room showing the movie he’s going to see today. He can’t even remember which one is it, he just looks at the ticket, sees the room number and looks back over his shoulder just a second to see the guy laughing with the pretty girl before he has to look forward again.

Ryan sighs, daydreams about talking to the guy like a normal person for once in his life, and starts watching closely where he steps as he walks. He doesn’t want to stumble on his own feet and fall to the floor. Not again.

*

“So, today was the day?” his father asks as soon as he appears through the door, cooking with an apron that wouldn’t be so ridiculous if he wasn’t just wearing shorts. _Very_ short.

“Dad. Please. Do you really have to cook like _that_?”

“What?” his father asks offended, looking down at himself. “It’s hot today, Ryan. It’s not my fault you’re so skinny you can’t feel it. So. I take your bad mood as a no, right?”

Ryan looks down and mumbles something unintelligible as he starts setting the table for dinner, his father snorting a laugh and shaking his head as he repeats ‘Ryan, Ryan, Ryan’ exactly three times. He always does that as a way of telling he doesn’t know what to do with him.

“Is he cute? If you want I can go with you next time and ask him myself. He’s gonna need my permission if he wants your ass, anyway.”

“Dad!” Ryan says, bringing his hands to his face and whining as he gets red all over again. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve this, he swears.

“What?! Don’t you boys talk like that these days?” his father asks, finishing with dinner and taking the two dishes to the table where Ryan is sitting, shaking his head.

“We _boys_. Not. Jesus, you’re my father! Shouldn’t you refuse to talk about things like those about your son?”

“Why should I?” his father shrugs, starting to eat, and Ryan just can laugh and do the same, still shaking his head because, really. His father is so weird. He’s kind of awesome too, he always worked hard to give him the best since his mother died when he was a kid and he was never harsh with him, not even when Ryan was a troublemaker when he started highschool. He always talked to him and tried to be patient saying it was a bad phase. It was, in the end. Ryan just needed a year to go back to his previous quiet, unnoticed self he didn’t know he enjoyed that much.

Ryan still remembers how cruel he was with him sometimes, and he feels guilty because his dad always wanted the best for him and never did anything to deserve that. He thinks about apologizing too, sometimes, but he’s too ashamed of admitting he was an asshole to his father, who was always kind and patient with him. Ryan thinks he’s really going to miss him when he moves out to go to college. He already has the dorm and everything, and his father is really excited and proud about him starting a degree, but they have been just the two of them since forever, and Ryan feels sad leaving him alone in the house.

“So, what are you going to do something for your birthday?” his dad asks, changing the topic. Ryan knows he’s not done with the guy of the movies, though. Hell no, he’s never gonna hear the end of it. He shrugs and keeps eating.

“We can do the same as always,” Ryan says. He was already thinking about it, they have a tradition of going to the mall, Hans buying Ryan whatever he wants, have dinner and stay at home watching a Star Wars marathon with plenty of candy.

“Ryan, come on, is your eighteen birthday! You should do something more fun than that! I don’t know, go to a party, get wasted, puke over my rug,” he says, making Ryan laugh.

“You want me to puke all over your rug?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow because he knows how much does his father love that rug. He brought it in India when he went there, long before Ryan was born.

“No, actually, don’t do that. But you can get wasted. Take drugs. Responsibly, of course.”

“Of course,” repeats Ryan, still laughing. “That’s not my style, dad.”

“You’re a pretty boring son, you know that?” he says, but Ryan knows he’s just joking and he loves him being like this because he can hear him sometimes talking to his friends, proudly saying how they spend a lot of time together and Ryan barely leaves the house and he’s a brilliant student. “I know what’s going on here. You’re waiting to get all alone in college to go wild and crazy, right? That’s good. You should do that. Your youth is not going to come back, son…”

“…You did that at college, right?” Ryan asks, amused. His dad frowns and coughs a little, making him burst out laughing because he totally got him there. He doesn’t answer and changes the topic, but he doesn’t need to.

*

A month. He’s doing this for a month now and everyone around the theatre talks to him like they’re old friends. Maybe the guy does too, but he seems to talk like that to everyone so Ryan doesn’t really know. He almost envies that, the ease with which he talks to everyone and laughs loudly and everyone in the place seem to light up as soon as they see him. Almost, because Ryan would hate that in any other person. It would be really annoying if he weren’t so pretty and kind and funny. Ryan hasn’t seen him in a bad mood since he’s coming here or being an asshole, or even getting mad at people when _they_ are being assholes. Even the days he has dark circles under his eyes and tired eyes he’s smiling and thanking and laughing. Ryan is so head over heels about him he’s ashamed of telling someone because he doesn’t really know him, Jesus Christ.

“Thank you, enjoy the movie! Next!” Ryan walks towards the counter, already blushing, and the guy’ smile widens as he sees him, talking again before Ryan can say anything. “Oh, hey! Hi again. Let me guess: small popcorn, small soda and bag of candy?” he asks, and Ryan gets even redder as he listens to him. Is he laughing at him? He didn’t sound like mocking him but one could never know, but he doesn’t seem like the type and what if he— holy shit, what if he remembered him?! And the things he buys?

Well, a voice echoes inside his brain, you practically live here and never try anything new, you dumbass, he should have Alzheimer not to remember.

“Um. Y-yeah, um, that,” he says, looking down to hide his red cheeks and ears but trying to look up at the guy at the same time. He thinks he’s doing a pretty awesome job of looking like a retard. Good God. Ryan looks around to see if anybody else is watching him making a fool of himself and he sees the girl working with the guy looking at him for a moment and walking towards the guy then, saying something that Ryan can’t hear and laughing a little.

He has a moment of thinking she’s maybe laughing at him for being an idiot, but he doesn’t want to think about that because he’ll get all nervous and he almost didn’t stutter this time and he doesn’t want to. Okay, he barely said two words but he counts it like a victory, anyway.

“Here it is,” the guy says as he leaves everything on the counter. “Ten seventy five, as always.” Yeah, right. Shit, Ryan thinks as he grabs the money, the guy probably thinks he’s an idiot too because he can’t even remember how much money he spends twice per week at the movies. “Thank you,” he says as he takes the money, looking at Ryan and biting his bottom lip as he changes the twenty to give him back his money.

Ryan swallows and gets kind of mesmerized with the way his lip look under his teeth, so much he doesn’t realize he’s staring until the guy laughs and hands his money back, clearing his throat a little and watching him with what Ryan thinks is a knowing smile. Ryan’s eyes get huge and he flushes hard, his hands sweating so much he almost drops the money.

“Oh, shit, um,” he mumbles, preventing the money to fall down with his body and feeling so hot in the face he’s kind of dizzy with blood overdose. “T-thank you,” he manages to say when he gets the money inside his pocket and grabs his things, turning around and walking away as fast as he can, so embarrassed he wants the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

His heart almost skips a beat when he hears the guy answer at his back.

“You’re welcome! See you next week!”

*

He’s so horrified he’s still red when he gets home, and he tells his father everything as soon as he’s inside with a ‘oh my god, dad, you raised an idiot’. Needless to say, his father laughed at him for almost fifteen minutes straight, until Ryan flipped him off and said something about him being unhelpful and cruel. Then his dad apologized, told him he was overreacting and he was sure it wasn’t that bad and made pancakes with ice cream for a hundred people, which they ate in the couch while watching Gilmore Girls (his father didn’t like the show, but Ryan not-so-secretly loved it and he was awesome enough to watch it with him).

*

 

His boss asks him to go to work an extra day the next week because he needs a hand with the stock and Ryan doesn’t mind, he has nothing else to do anyway, except for being at home pitying himself and eating ice cream like a maniac while his father tells him for a millionth time how he got with Ryan’s mother with his super boyfriend skills, as he calls them. Skills that, in case of being true, Ryan hasn’t inherit, like, at all.

So he works another day and he decides to go to the movies on Thursday instead, telling himself to be a man in front of the mirror and then feeling bad because he’s being a stereotypical asshole and telling himself to be brave, instead. He changes his clothes five times before he actually goes out and he’s thankful his father is not at home because he has enough listening to him laughing in his brain.

When he gets to the movies, there’s barely three people before him waiting at the canteen, and he feels his heart beating hard, his ears ringing and his palms starting to sweat as he gets in the row. However, something seems off, and as he looks up to take a look around, he sees the guy is not behind the counter, just the pretty girl. He moves his eyes around, maybe he’s in the back, or he went to the bathroom. Ryan bites his lip and takes a step forward as the next client is served, still looking everywhere, searching for the big pretty eyes and the constant smile. But he doesn’t seem to be anywhere and Ryan starts to think maybe he’s not in the bathroom or in the back.

What if he was fired? What if something happened to him? The girl doesn’t seem too affected, though, and they seemed very close, so it can’t be that. Right? Maybe he’s ill, or maybe someone he knew died. What if he doesn’t come back? What’s Ryan going to do then?

“He’s not working today, sweetie. It’s his free day,” a feminine voice says, and Ryan needs a few seconds before he realizes he’s alone in the canteen once more. The girl is leaning against the counter and smiling crooked at him, watching him with soft eyes and a lifted eyebrow.

Ryan feels all his blood rushing up his cheeks and he swallows, not knowing what to say or do, feeling totally horrified because, fuck, is he really that obvious? Is he for him too? He wants to disappear right in that moment, to just close his eyes and being home when he opens them, where he’s safe and he’s not feeling hot and sweaty all over, his throat dry and his heart racing.

“Um. W-what,” he says. And okay, for someone who likes to read that much, words sure as hell aren’t his friends. The girl just laughs, but is sounds kind and fresh and even fond, not like she’s laughing at him or anything. That makes him feel a little better, so little he actually doesn’t feel it.

“Brendon. I know you’re looking for him. He’ll be here tomorrow, if you want to come instead of today.”

“O-oh. Um. No, I mean. It’s. Um.” It’s the longest thing he’s said in this place, and he really thinks it’s a start, or it would be, if he could actually form words. Then he realizes the girl said Brendon, and Ryan’s heart speeds up like crazy because fuck, he has a name now. His name’s Brendon. Brendon. He doesn’t think he has heard that name a lot, or ever, actually. But it kind of suits him. _Brendon_. “Um. I-I’ll take a small popcorn carton, small s-soda and a bag of candy, p-please,” he says when he realizes he’s silent for too long and the girl is starting to look at him weird.

“Sure, honey,” she says, starting to get ready everything he asked for. Well, he knows now the guy, Brendon, isn’t dead or anything. It was just a bad day to come, really, a waste of time because now he won’t be able to come back until next week. “There you go. People are not really your thing, are they?” she asks, and Ryan looks at her all red and shrugs, grabbing his money and handing it to her.

“I’m. Um. No, not really,” he admits, and he’s kind of proud of himself for being able to answer. She nods and laughs a little, giving him the change and looking at him fondly.

“It’s on your face, you know? You always look like a lost puppy surrounded by lions. It’s kind of cute, actually.” Ryan guesses he looks like it, to be honest. And that makes him feel even more shy now because he’s gonna turn eighteen and still he’s socially retarded. “You don’t have to worry, darling. I don’t bite. Brendon does, but only in bed,” she says, laughing again when Ryan’s eyes go wide and his ears get all red and hot. “Enjoy the movie!” she finishes before going back to work.

Ryan doesn’t think he moves for another, like, ten minutes, standing there with images all over his brain of Brendon biting… whatever. This is definitely not the place for thinking about those things. He prefers to do it at home, alone, touching himself and avoiding the fact that he’s a complete creep jacking off thinking about a guy he doesn’t know. At least he has a name now.

*

“I swear, you guys, he’s fucking _perfect_ ,” he says, Spencer rolling his eyes and Z going all ‘aaww’ on him. They’re onSkypefor half an hour now, and Ryan is still talking about Brendon. He’s not ashamed.

“Oh my god, you’re so gross,” Spencer whines.

“Shut up, you heartless bitch. He’s obviously in love,” Z says, flipping Spencer off and talking directly to Ryan. “So, did you two talk?”

“Umm. Well, of course,” Ryan says, and he thinks that’s pretty obvious. Z is not stupid.

“She means like, talk about anything that’s not what you’re going to buy,” Spencer clarifies, rolling his eyes again and using that bored tone.

“Oh!” Ryan says, and that. Right. That makes sense.

“Jesus, baby, you’re so dense sometimes…” Z laughs.

“Anyway, I’m not _in love_ , Z, come on,” Ryan says, smiling. “I don’t know him, like, at all.”

“Why don’t you fuck him in the back room and forget about it? It’s easier,” Spencer shrugs.

“Oh my god,” this time is Z’s turn to roll her eyes and Ryan watches what’s going to become another Z-Spencer scene. He honestly doesn’t know how they’re still friends. “Do you always think with your dick, Smith?”

“Mostly. Except when I think about you, because that gives me nausea…” Spencer answers, and Z gives him a murderous glance. “Also, it’s not that crazy.”

“Ryan obviously doesn’t want that with Brendon, smartass.”

“Don’t you?” Spencer asks, and they both look at him with questioning looks. Ryan doesn’t know why _he_ is friend of theirs.

“ _Well_ …” he starts, laughing when Spencer bursts out a laugh and Z shouts ‘oh, come on’. “But not just that! Jesus, I don’t want _just_ that, okay? Of course I want to fuck him. But I want to know him, too.”

“Fuck him first. Just in case you don’t want to after knowing him,” Spencer says, and Z huffs again. “Also, it’s been how long? A year?”

“Six months,” Ryan sighs. And still counting. He has to admit Spencer has a point there, six months is a fucking long time. “But yeah, no. That’s not. I mean. I don’t want to do that, I’m interested in him.”

“And that’s why you have to listen to me and not to this deprived man,” Z says.

“Excuse me, whose panties I found lying on Ryan’s floor?” Spencer asks, lifting an eyebrow. Ryan groans and laughs because, honestly, two fucking years and still Spencer hasn’t gotten over it. “I have to tell you, if I wasn’t so sure Ryan loves dick, that’s be suspicious.”

“Jesus. I said it was an accident, okay? I was drunk and Ryan was kind enough to let me shower and crash at his place. Because, you know, he’s a good friend. Not like you.”

“I’m offended,” Spencer says, sounding bored.

“Anyway,” Ryan interrupts because, if he doesn’t, this can go on and on to no end. He’s seen it before. “I can’t talk to him. You know me, guys; I’m not precisely socially skilled. He probably thinks I’m an idiot, already. I almost drop the money all over myself in front of him!” Ryan says, sighing again. “I’ll just keep looking from the distance; I don’t even know if he swings that way and, and if he didhe’s way out of my league, anyway…”

“Listen, honey. You’re awesome! You’re smart, funny, sensitive, kind, and a good person. It’s not possible for him not to like you, okay? So, talk to him.”

Ryan stays in silence for a few seconds, almost believing Z’s words. He wants to do it, he really does. He even pictures it in his mind and he has a whole conversation with him without stutter even once. But what he thinks and what comes out of his mouth is not usually the same.

“And you have a big dick,” Spencer adds helpfully, making Z groan again.

“I _didn’t_ need to know that,” she says, shaking her head and bringing her hands to her face.

“Come on! Are you guys really telling me you never…?”

Z shouts ‘ _friends_ , Spencer!’ at the same time Ryan goes ‘ _gay_ , Spencer!’ and they laugh it off for a while. Spencer has the impression they’ve fucked a couple of times and never told him and, really, Ryan would if she was a guy because Z is kind of awesome. But she lacks of a dick, and that’s _pretty_ awesome too. Ryan would lie if he said he didn’t question his sexuality all over again when he met her, thinking maybe he was bi because, damn, she was hot. But he soon discovered that no, girls just don’t do the trick for him.

They talk for a little while more but they don’t mention Brendon again, and Ryan is thankful because he doesn’t want to keep listening to the reasons why he should talk to him, ask him out, something.He’ll think about it. Maybe he’ll even do it next week. Or the next one. Just. Maybe.

*

“Hey, you! Lost in thought? Thinking about being adventurous and changing the usual?” Brendon says, that stunning bright smile on, his eyes shining mischievously. Ryan’s cheeks get warmer and he coughs, trying to hide the way he just got lost in Brendon’s voice while he was singing before attending him. He maybe called him a couple of times, but Ryan didn’t notice.

“Um. I. No, no, I just. Um. I’ll take the same as always,” he says, clearing his throat again and changing his mind in the last minute. “Without the candy, please.”

“Oh, woah! Wild,” Brendon says, but Ryan knows he’s not laughing at him. He doesn’t know why, he just _knows_ , and he snorts a dorky laugh as he looks down. Brendon’s smile widens and his eyes go impossibly big and round, and Ryan doesn’t think he’s even seen so much expression in one face. “Hey, look at that! I made you laugh! Oh my god. I think I deserve a candy bar, don’t you think? Or, you know, a name.”

Ryan is still red and he moves his hand compulsively over his jeans, trying to make the sweat on his palm disappear, this time preparing the money and leaving it on the counter before Brendon is done with his things. He’s still dealing with the fact that Brendon is talking to him so he doesn’t think his brain is working properly and he doesn’t get to say anything before he talks again. The guy seems to talk like a lot.

“No? Well, okay. I’ll get the candy bar, then,” he says, and Ryan doesn’t get that and thinks ‘no, what?’, but Brendon is already getting the money and thanking him. He looks down for a moment and Ryan bites his lip and feels his guts twist because fuck, fuck, did he do something wrong? But then he sees Brendon giving him some paper (the ticket, he realizes) and smiling again. It seems off, somehow, and Ryan doesn’t think he’s a creep because he knows when Brendon’s smile is off. Nope. “There. In case you change your mind,” he says with a knowing smile.

Ryan frowns a little and doesn’t understand what he’s talking about until he’s a few feet away and happens to turn the ticket around to take it into his pocket. Just then he sees the black numbers written messily on it and an underlined name right bellow. Brendon, it says. Brendon. Numbers and Brendon. Brendon’s number. Holy fucking— Ryan’s soda loses its center of gravity and falls, the liquid spilling all over Ryan’s shirt and jeans, making him swear and get impossibly red when he notices everyone is watching him. Even Brendon.

He groans and shuts his eyes close and hides behind his hair, just looking up when a man from the cinema gets closer and asks if he’s okay. He just nods and apologizes, feeling his limbs numb and his throat dry, running away when he can move again and walking out of the cinema with his eyes fixed on the floor, movie ticket forgotten in his pocket. He throws the popcorn away in a trashcan too, but the ticket with the black numbers remains in his hand, and he’s clever enough to get it in his back pocket before he ruins it, too.

 

It goes like this: Ryan gets home with sweaty hands and flushed cheeks, ignores his father’s attempts to talk about it, gets in the showers and contemplates his life and the possibility of running away from the states and start a new life in, like, Lapland, where probably he wouldn’t find short guys with gorgeous eyes trying to talk to him. Or anyone, because up there people must have their tongue frozen up, honestly.

So he takes a long shower, changes his clothes and gets comfy in a pair of boxers and brings his clothes to the wash machine where his father is waiting for him to drop the jeans and shirt. And he must say he feels somehow better, maybe because he’s decided he’s not gonna go to the movies in, like, fifteen years, just when he’s old and grey and totally unrecognizable.

And then he sits on his bed, laptop on top of him, sees his million notes on the screen reminding him to do things he’s totally not doing, and suddenly he remembers that, oh, _oh_ , man, he got Brendon’s number. He feels a warm tug at his guts that soon becomes a twists when he remember that, yeah, the number is on the ticket, which is in his jeans, which are in the— fucking shit.

Ryan can’t say he runs down the stairs, he fucking flies, calling his dad and telling him to stop the damned wash machine for god’s sake. His father asks him why, but he must see something on his face because he does without asking again. It’s too late, though, and when Ryan finds the ticket it’s just a soaked paper of smeared ink, the only thing remaining a three and a B underlined. Ryan lies down on the laundry room floor and curses his life while his father looks at him puzzled and wonders why he has a seventeen years old son whining on the laundry room floor in just a pair of boxers.

Ryan’s life can’t get any worse.

*

He needs exactly two weeks, one day and two conversations with Z with a hundred ‘he gave you his number! He’s clearly interested!’ to make him go to the movies again. And as he drives there he thinks this is the last time he tries and, if Brendon isn’t there, he’ll take it like a sign of God to stop trying. Karma. Fate. Whatever. He just needed too many hours and seven changes of clothes to decide to come, and he doesn’t think it’s such a good idea, to be honest.

Ryan has thought about the last time he was there every fucking second. He has cursed over it because damn, could he be more ridiculous? Brendon is going to think he’s an idiot, he made a fool of himself, he fucking spilled the soda all over his own clothes, how dumb is that? So he’s been telling himself that over and over again these past days, but somehow Z convinced him it was a good idea to come back here and he’s already sweating and feeling numb all over just thinking about it.

It’s late and the movies are empty already because the last movie has started a while ago. Ryan wanted to go then because he’s going to give all he got here now, or he gets Brendon tonight or he’ll never go to a cinema ever again in his life. That’s decided. So he walks slowly towards the canteen, where Brendon and the girl are cleaning everything up as they talk and laugh loosely. Ryan has a moment of panic and wants to turn around and go back to his house and never come back, but he swallows and breathes and dries his hands on his jeans as he walks closer.

“Um. Hi,” he mumbles when he gets there, so low he doesn’t know if they can hear him. They do, though, or so it seems, because Brendon raises his voice and talks, without looking back.

“Sorry, it’s closed,” he says, and he stops on his tracks when he turns around and sees Ryan, his eyebrows rising surprisingly. “Oh. Hey,” he says, watching Ryan closely and making him feel self confident in his tight jeans and black shirt. “You’re late today, man. I’m really sorry, but we’re closed.”

“Yeah, no,” Ryan rushes to say when he sees Brendon is about to turn around again. And his heart is racing and his hands sweating and he feels his throat closing up, but his brain seems to be working for once and he opens his mouth, talking again. “I know. I-I was here just, like, for dinner. I-I mean. If y-you want. Late dinner,” he finishes lamely, and he feels himself blushing as he sees Brendon watching him in silence, a small smile spreading on his face.

The girl working with Brendon is watching them with a knowing smile, not as subtle about it as she wants to show. Ryan rubs his hands together and twists his fingers, looking down as the seconds pass and Brendon doesn’t say anything and shit, shit, this was such a bad idea. He’s going to say no, he’s going to say Ryan misunderstood everything and the number was just a joke, he’s just thinking about a good way to say it because he’s a good person and he doesn’t want to hurt Ryan.

“You’re cute when you blush, you know that?” Brendon says suddenly, and that. Okay, that wasn’t what Ryan was expecting. Like, at all. He looks at him through the locks of hair falling over his face and gets even redder, his ears getting warm too. Brendon laughs softly then, and the sound sends shivers down Ryan’s spine. He laughs and looks at him biting his lip and leans a little over the counter, nodding once. “Okay, then. I think I’ll have that dinner with you, just for that.”

“Really?” Ryan asks before he can think about it because, did he just? Did Brendon say yes to his lame proposition? Is he dreaming? Is this real? Brendon laughs again and nods.

“No,” he says, and Ryan feels his eyes go wide and something heavy fall down to his feet right before Brendon laughs again. “I’m joking, just joking! Let me… my shift ends in fifteen minutes, unless…” he says, looking at the girl, who rolls her eyes and laughs.

“Get the fuck out of here, asshole, I’ll close,” she says, and Brendon literally jumps and runs towards her, kissing her cheek.

“Oh! It’s not, I mean. I can wait, really, it’s not necessary,” Ryan assures, still nervous and a little blown up by the situation. Brendon looks at him again, still smiling so big Ryan thinks his cheeks have to hurt.

“Easy there, Romeo, it’s no problem,” the girl says, smiling at him too. “You two go have fun, okay?”

Brendon says thank you and runs towards a door at the back, disappearing for a few moments. The girl looks up at him and winks, and Ryan can’t help but smile too, still a little red and feeling nervous but excited and a little incredulous about everything that’s going on. Brendon reappears a few minutes after, the uniform gone and a green plain shirt on in its place. He looks even more beautiful without the counter between them and Ryan looks him up and down not so subtle, clearing his throat when Brendon lifts an eyebrow and smile sharper. His steps are confident and full of energy.

“Hi!” he says once he gets to Ryan, and Ryan has a moment of panic when he realizes his brain isn’t working anymore. Brendon is kind of imposing this close.

“You smell like popcorn,” he answers, and he mentally facepalms because really, _really_ , what the fuck was that?! Brendon just laughs again.

“Yeah, that’s what happens when you work eight hours straight next to a popcorn popper. I probably taste like popcorn, too,” he adds, his smile turning up on the edge. Ryan’s eyes grow big and he coughs a little, snorting a laugh right after because he needs to hide the fact that he’s picturing popcorn taste on his tongue after licking Brendon’s skin.

“Um. So,” he says, very eloquent, and Brendon just waits, pressing his lips together as if he were trying not to laugh. Ryan brings his hand to his own hair, tangling his fingers there in a nervous gesture. “I know a pizza place not far from here. It closes very late so, if you, like, want to go there.”

“Pizza sounds awesome, yeah.” Brendon says, still smiling, and Ryan nods before he points awkwardly over his shoulder and turns around to start walking towards the exit.

“So,” he says as they walk, still feeling his cheeks hot and his brain running desperately trying to find something to say that doesn’t make him sound like a retard.

“So,” Brendon repeats, and he seems to be jumping instead of walking, like his body can’t contain so much energy. “You didn’t call,” he says, and Ryan has a moment of thinking well, shit, before he makes a gesture and wrinkles his nose.

“I washed your phone number.” And yeah, that’s good for not wanting to sound like a retard. Brendon bursts out laughing though, and Ryan gets redder but can’t help but laugh a little too.

“That would be the worst excuse ever if it wasn’t because I totally see you doing that,” Brendon says between laughs, and Ryan feels the awkwardness evaporating a bit, as if the laugh is easing the tension.

“Yeah… I tried to save it from drowning in my wash machine but it was useless. Sorry about that,” Ryan says, biting his lip and still feeling like he’s going to fuck up anytime now saying something he shouldn’t. Brendon is still laughing as he shakes his head, but he looks at Ryan with a big smile when he’s done.

“It’s okay. You came today. Let’s see what you’ve got,” he says, and if Ryan wasn’t feeling nervous before, that totally made it.

They spend almost the whole way to the pizza place in silent, and Ryan’s mind is running wild thinking he’s so boring Brendon is not going to want to do this again, but Brendon just turns on the radio as if the car was his and start to hum with the music, tapping his fingers against his own thigh and looking out of the window the whole time, murmuring the lyrics sometimes.

Ryan is even more nervous when they get there because he doesn’t want to be silent, he wants to get to know Brendon, know how old is he, why he works in a cinema canteen, what he likes. He suddenly remembers he didn’t say his name and god, he’s such an idiot he can hear Spencer laughing at him in the distance.

“I-I’m Ryan, by the way,” he says out of the blue as they get out of the car, and Brendon closes the door and leans against the roof, looking at him with a crooked smile.

“It’s good to know,” he says, staring at him like he’s thinking much more than he’s saying. “I’m Brendon, but Vicky already told me she told you that,” he adds. Ryan has to think about that for a few seconds before he realizes Vicky it’s the girl working with Brendon at the cinema.

“Um. Yeah, that… yes,” Ryan says lamely, but Brendon only nods and points at the entry with his head, saying a quick ‘I’m starving, let’s go eat’ and starting to walk there.

The first few minutes are still awkward and tense for Ryan, but the moment they get to the table and the pizza is served, Brendon starts talking about how much fun working in the canteen is, even though he wouldn’t want to do that for the rest of his life. He talks about how people are assholes sometimes, how Vicky is his best friend ever and how he really likes interacting with people on a daily basis.

He talks and talks and talks, and Ryan listens and feels more relaxed as the minutes pass by, laughing when he feels like it and nodding every now and then, paying attention to every little detail of Brendon’s words. It’s weird, because usually Ryan enjoys the peace and the quiet and people talking too much make him feel tired, but he thinks he could listen to Brendon talk on and on and never get tired because, fuck, the guy has passion. He’s passionate about _everything_ , even the most insignificant thing, and it shows in the way he talks and moves.

Ryan learns Brendon’s seventeen and he has three brothers and a dog in the half an hour they take to finish the pizza, that he likes The Beatles and that he can’t stay still for too long so he tries to get busy with anything he can every day. Ryan talks a little about himself too, tells him he lives with his father, that his mother died when he was so little he can’t remember her and that he’s working in a bookstore so he can pay for college, or some part of it.

“What are you gonna do there?” Brendon asks, rubbing his belly like he’s satisfied with the dinner. Ryan is too, mostly because it’s going pretty well.

“History,” he answers, and he laughs when he sees Brendon’s surprised face. “I don’t know yet if I’ll go with the cultural program or native, but yeah. I kind of always wanted to work in a museum and, yeah. That,” he explains, biting his lip and looking at Brendon before laughing again, blushing a little. “I know. I’m a dork.”

“You said that, not me,” Brendon laughs. “But, yeah, you are.” Ryan laughs at the same time Brendon does again, and he can’t even take it as an insult because Brendon’s laugh is so perfect Ryan would want him to keep going forever even if he were laughing at him. “It’s awesome, though. I mean, it would be boring for me, but yeah. It suits you.”

“Aren’t you going to college?” Ryan asks, curious.

“Maybe,” Brendon shrugs. “I’m still deciding about it, you know? I want to do music, somehow, but yeah. Still seeing how that’s going to work out,” he says, making a gesture with his face. “My parents think it’ll be more… productive to be a lawyer or something like that, but let’s be honest, I hate the thought of a normal, boring and usual work, you know?” he laughs. Ryan does, too, but he nods.

“I get it,” he says. They have a moment, then, or Ryan likes to think about it as a moment because they get silent but they are looking at each other eyes and Ryan feels like Brendon is staring into his soul. He blushes again (really, he needs to stop that before his blood gets dizzy) and bites his lip and this time resist the urge to look down just so he can keep watching Brendon’s bright eyes, so alive, so cheerful.

And then the guy at the pizza place interrupts them to say they’re about to close and they have to pay (Ryan pays, because he wants to make up for washing Brendon’s number, he says) and they get out at the hot night with full stomachs and a relaxed atmosphere around them. Ryan doesn’t really wants to go home yet because he feels like he barely spent a few minutes with Brendon and he really wants to keep talking to him, but it’s late and there’s no much more they can do.

“So,” he says, getting his hands into his pockets and looking at Brendon.

“So,” Brendon repeats, and Ryan knows he’s mocking him now, but he can’t even care. “Are you always this shy or it’s just with me?”

Ryan didn’t expect that question and he gets nervous all over again, biting his lip and this time looking down as he laughs nervously. Maybe he was being too boring in the end. He swallows and clears his throat, not really knowing what to say about that. He’s a shy guy, he is, but Jesus, Brendon just makes an idiot out of him

“I, um,” he starts, but he doesn’t elaborate before Brendon is laughing and stepping forward, getting all close and into his personal space, making his palms start sweating and his heart racing.

“Don’t worry,” he says, and he looks at Ryan’s mouth right after that, making him bite his bottom lip. “Shyness can be sexy. You totally make it work,” Brendon adds, and before Ryan knows what to say to that, he feels Brendon’s lips against his. His heart stops for a moment as he feels Brendon’s full lips smashed against his, and he has a moment of thinking he’s dreaming before he actually kisses back.

At first is kind of uncoordinated and hard, like they can’t wait for kissing each other. But then they break it barely a second to breath, and the kiss become softer, deeper, more intense. Ryan feels Brendon’s tongue slipping its way into his mouth and he shivers, bringing his hands up to hold on Brendon’s waist, stepping closer. He closes his eyes and makes a soft sound as Brendon kisses him eagerly, opening his mouth more and kissing back hard. Brendon tastes like pizza and something sweet and Ryan thinks he’s the most delicious thing he has tasted in his life. His heart is racing and he almost can’t breathe not because of the kiss, but because he can’t believe this is happening. He can’t believe he’s kissing the guy he was obsessed with for more than a month.

Brendon’s hands tangle through his hair and he bites Ryan’s bottom lip a little as he draws back, making his skin stand up on end as he laughs breathy when he remember what Vicky told him about Brendon just biting in the bedroom.

“What’s so funny?” Brendon asks against his lips, smiling too. Ryan licks his lips, trying to taste Brendon on them and opening his eyes.

“I was just remembering something Vicky said,” he explains, looking at him a little flushed, “about you just biting in bed.”

“She said that?” Brendon asks, lifting an eyebrow and tiptoeing a little so he can kiss Ryan again, short and chaste. “Why? Were you asking?” he asks, smiling crooked. Ryan blushes again and Brendon laughs, and that’s totally not how the conversation went so he doesn’t know why he gets all red again. Now Brendon is going to think he were asking how he was in bed. Jesus, way to go, Ryan. “Why are you so nervous?” Brendon asks suddenly, whispering, one of his hands sliding down Ryan’s chest and stopping right where his heart is about to explode overworking.

“I-I. I’m not very good with people…” Ryan admits, stuttering a little and biting his own lip, still so close to Brendon he’s sure he can feel the heat radiating from his cheeks.

“You seem pretty good with me,” Brendon answer, smiling small before kissing him again, softer, slower. “Is there anything else?” he asks again, his hot breath colliding with Ryan’s lips, making him sigh.

“I. Um. Just… just y-you, I mean. You are, I,” Ryan gets more nervous as he talks, and Brendon’s smile just opens wider, as if he were having fun because of Ryan’s nervousness.

“Yeah?” he asks, and Ryan lets out a laugh to ease the tension a little, looking down as he blushes again (he lost the count of times he’s done it since he met Brendon), swallowing. Brendon laughs too, and he leans his head so he can look at Ryan from beneath him. “You’re very cute, you know that? You should stop that blushing thing…” he says, moving to put his mouth on Ryan’s ear, making him shiver as he talks. “It makes me want to see you flushed red in other… circumstances.”

Ryan groans without even knowing it as his hands hold tighter on Brendon’s waist because Jesus Christ, is he real? Ryan promised himself this wasn’t going to be one of those fuck on the first night things for him, but holy shit, Brendon’s not going to make it easy if he keeps saying things like that. He thinks about it for a moment, because really, it wouldn’t be that bad if they did fuck tonight, it doesn’t mean they’re not going to see each other again or whatever. Like, it wouldn’t be just a one night stand, right? It wouldn’t be for him. Ryan totally wants to see him again, date, see how it goes. But maybe Brendon wants this to be, like, a one time thing, maybe he’s saying that so they can start something that would end in bed (or Ryan’s car, probably).

He would be disappointed if it was the case, but he’s not about to lose the opportunity of fucking Brendon just because he thinks they would be cute as a couple and he’s picturing their wedding and their first baby and three dogs in a house near the beach already.

“Wanna get out of here?” he asks, whispering and kissing Brendon again with his eyes closed and breathing against his lips. Brendon smiles and nods.

“Yeah, that’s a pretty good idea.”

*

As Ryan drives, he thinks about what it seemed. Like, did his proposition of getting out of there sound like he was trying to get somewhere else? Did Brendon want that? Where the fuck should they go? Because he’s driving without a destination. The air is tense again, but not like at first when he was nervous and awkward and didn’t know what to say. This time is like _sexually_ tense, or maybe that’s just how Ryan feels because he still can taste Brendon on his lips.

Brendon is singing beside him along the music on the radio, but he looks at him sometimes and his eyes are a little darker and more mischievous than before. Ryan can feel it in the way his skin stretches out and his groin starts to pull, because fuck, that stare can’t be anything but sexual.

“Where are you taking me?” Brendon asks then, licking his lips and stretching on the seat. Ryan looks at him a couple of times but he reminds himself he has to pay attention to the road and he tightens his hold on the wheel.

“Well, um. I… I don’t really know,” he admits, laughing a little and biting his lip. Brendon laughs too, and it sounds more surprised than anything. Ryan is about to ask if he wants to go somewhere or if he wanted, like, do that of watching him flushed in other circumstances when Brendon talks again.

“Take me to the beach, I want to show you something,” he says, and Ryan can’t really say no to that. He doesn’t want to, either.

They spend the rest of the way looking at each other sideways, smiling stupidly and biting their lips. Ryan kind of wants to kiss him until his lip are sore but he has to keep driving and, really, the way to the beach has never been so long. Brendon seems to be in the same situation because, as soon as they park, he gets close to Ryan and grabs his hand, pulling on him and kissing him again as he starts to walk backwards, bringing Ryan with him.

The night is silent and there’s no one out there so Brendon’s laugh echoes in the place, mixing with the sound of the waves and the crickets. He doesn’t let go of Ryan’s hand and he lets himself be pulled into the sand, taking off his sneakers and socks and feeling the sand cold and damp against his feet. Brendon does the same and they walk hand in hand until the lights of the street don’t reach the sand. Ryan swallows as he sees Brendon getting closer to him again, bringing his hands to Ryan’s shoulders and pushing him down on the sand as he laughs, sitting on his lap then.

“So,” Ryan says, and he doesn’t know where did that confident tone come from, but he holds Brendon’s waist and looks at him, smiling. “This is what you wanted to show me?” he asks, still feeling a little nervous but gaining confident as the minutes go by. Brendon smiles bigger, biting his lip.

“I lied,” he says, wrinkling his nose and making a guilty gesture that doesn’t seem to be honest at all. “I just wanted to do this in a place where we couldn’t be like, assaulted or anything.”

“This?” Ryan asks, taking advantage of Brendon’s words to know if by this he means sex.

“Yeah,” he says, nodding. “This.” He kisses Ryan again with no rush, opening Ryan’s lips with his mouth and slipping his tongue between them, moaning as Ryan kisses back so eager he has to hold Brendon tighter not to make him move away. Ryan grabs him by the waist with one arm, using his other hand to hold on Brendon’s hair and pull a little, making him open his mouth more to kiss him deeper.

It’s the best make out session he has ever had, with Brendon lips full and wet sliding easily against his, with his tongue fighting for dominance with Ryan’s (and winning), with his arms around Ryan’s neck and his hips moving softly and subtly against his. Ryan can feel them, in the way the hotness start to gather on his groin, the way the friction makes him feel himself growing hard as his lips get sore, Brendon’s almost full erection making everything faster.

They kiss and kiss and kiss, and soon they are almost out of breath as they rub against each other. Ryan wants desperately to get rid of the clothes, to touch him, taste him, but he doesn’t want to stop, the friction so good it’s sending shivers up his spine, making him moan into Brendon’s mouth and say his name over and over again. Brendon seems to like that, because every time Ryan says his name his hips move faster, harder, and he’s looking at his eyes fixedly as they try to breath in the small space between their mouths.

Ryan moves his hand down Brendon’s back, trying to get it between the jeans and Brendon’s skin, just being able to do it when Brendon unfastens his jeans to make room, smiling as he moans when Ryan’s hand reaches his ass and squeezes, pushing, making him follow his rhythm.

“Jesus fuck, I’m gonna come like this if you keep going,” Ryan says, gasping for air, biting Brendon’s chin.

“Yeah?” Brendon asks proudly, smiling wide and groaning loud and unashamed as he keeps moving his hips.

“Yeah. Yeah, god, yes, so good. Fuck it feels so good I can’t fucking wait to feel your skin against mine. Hot and wet and no clothes so I can touch you everywhere. You want that?” Ryan says, totally out of control. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore, his blood is gathering in his cock and he doesn’t think he’s felt this turned on with so little like, ever. Brendon laughs a little and curses, groaning.

“You’re not so shy during sex,” he says, and he sounds pleasantly surprised, laughing a little. “Yeah, yes. I want that. I want to touch you too. I wanna taste you. Want to blow you because fuck, you feel huge against me,” he moans, speeding up, making Ryan’s skin flush and get hot all over, the orgasm forming in his groin. “Wanna see if you’re as big as you feel,” he adds, and Ryan just can moan Brendon’s name and close his eyes and dig his fingers in his flesh before he comes in his pants, seeing white stars behind his eyelids, his whole body trembling with the force of it. He feels like he comes forever, his muscles melting and his whole body losing his strength.

Brendon is still moving when he comes back to reality, and Ryan can’t resist the urge to move one of his hands and getting it inside his jeans and boxers, grabbing him as he can with the clothes in between and touching him as Brendon moans and says his name and fuck, did his name always sound so good or only now that Brendon’s about to come? He moves his hand all he can and Brendon thrusts up with his hips and he seems so out of it is mesmerizing. Ryan can’t believe his eyes when he sees him smiling, because really, Brendon smiles even when he’s having sex, and he has to kiss him again right as he feels him tensing, his cock twitching in his hand, his whole body shivering right before the hot, sticky liquid stains Ryan’s fingers. He swallows Brendon’s moans because he’s kissing him deep and dirty, and he keeps kissing down his neck when Brendon draws back so he can breathe, holding him tight, Ryan’s hand sliding easily with smeared come all over Brendon’s length.

He only stops when Brendon grabs his wrist and makes him, saying his name along a few curses and kissing him still breathless, slow and tired. Ryan feels in a daze of some kind, watching Brendon like he can’t believe what just happened because, well, he _can’t_. His boxers and jeans are sticky and gross, his hand still wet with Brendon’s come and he feels his lips tingling because of the kissing. And still he feels so awesome he can’t help the smile spreading in his face.

“So,” he says, still breathing harsh, all nervousness gone with his orgasm or so it seems. “I’d like to see you again some time.”

Brendon laughs and looks at him with his eyes bright and a little unfocused, nodding as he kisses Ryan again, this time softer, groaning tired into his mouth.

“I’d like that too,” he says then, and Ryan feels his insides warming a little with the thought, his smile getting big and honest.

“It’s a date,” he clarifies, because when he comes his brain becomes stupid and doesn’t think that much and, well, it seems he works better when he’s not thinking.

“Hell yeah, it is,” Brendon says, and he laughs again, loud and clear and cheerful. Ryan is kind of starting to love that sound already.

*

As expected, his father almost throws a party when Ryan tells him he had dinner with the guy of the movies (he leaves the part about the orgasms out, because as much as his father has no sense of privacy or shame, he does) and he starts to ask Ryan when is he going to meet him, because he wants to know who’s the boy making his son look like an idiot all over the house, sighing and smiling like he’s living in a chick flick. Ryan doesn’t know why he tells him these things; really, he should have known this was going to happen.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
